


Whiskey in the Jar

by MurderInk



Category: Bleach
Genre: Break Up, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Sexual Content, hichiichi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderInk/pseuds/MurderInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo Kurosaki was a famous artist an year ago...but he lost his muse after his boyfriend, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques broke up with him. However, Ichigo haven't given up yet. He's still hoping he'll get his muse back. And his dream may come true after he meets a mysterious guitarist...There'll be lemon in later chapters, don't worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Black Guitar

_"Let me sing you the white song…"_

~~~

Huge snowflakes floated in the air as he was walking down the street. The air was cold and the wind was blowing gently making the snowflakes float a little more in the frozen air.

  
The man was wearing a black jacket, black skinny jeans and black boots. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket. And despite the not-so-pleasant weather, the man had no hat to cover his bright orange hair that stuck around in all direction, at the wind's will and power.  
  
He was walking casually down the street as if nothing could bother him, not even the snow that was stubbornly trying to get in his eyes, not even the cold air that made his skin feel uncomfortable. There's was nothing that could make him feel something...anything.  
  
On the corner of the street there was an old style building, with two floors and, somehow, it managed to catch his attention through the stillness of his surroundings. At the ground floor there was what looked like old bar, called "Le Chat Noir". Black wood was the first thing he'd noticed, probably ebony, he supposed. It had its name written with golden stylish letters.  
  
 **Black and gold.**  The man thought that those two colours were perfect together; he believed that one couldn't really exist without the other. Black was highlighting gold and gold was a royal colour. The colour of wealth and then, there was black. Black, the hidden desire, the sign that warned you about danger, the mysterious mist. It could be anything. And he found that fascinating.   
  
He entered the bar and looked around searching for a free table; in the end, he couldn't stay away. Through thick smoke and dim lit atmosphere, his eyes squinted to get a better grip of his surroundings. It wasn't much- a bunch of lively mildly inebriated men here, another one there, three inexpressive women in the other corner of the room. But the man didn't care, all he wanted at that moment was a hot cup of something, most likely coffee and a place to rest his feet.  
  
In the end, he spotted an unoccupied table and he nonchalantly sit down not bothering to shove off the snow he had on his coat, not bothering with the some insistent stares he felt on the back of his neck. They could stare at him all they wanted.  
  
The table was as black as the building and he started absent-mindly drawing abstract patterns on the wooden table as he waited for the waiter or waitress to make their appearance. His lips slightly curled upwards in a ghost-like smile as he felt the soft, yet rough wood under his touch.   
  
 _And his mind started to wonder in the past again…_  
  
No matter how much time passed the man couldn't forget his first love- they crept under his skin, in his brain, in his heart and deep in his soul capturing everything that could be captured. He tried countless unsuccessful times to wash away those baby blue eyes out of his mind, those baby blue eyes that could pierce right through him at the strangest of times, those two maddening oceans that held so much love in them. Nor could he forget that spiky blue hair that simply defied the laws of gravity, just like the owner refused to obey in front of the odds.   
  
And it wasn't even his fault.  
  
They were the last things he saw in the night and the first in the morning.   
  
He couldn't simply toss away  _years_  of holding hands, jokingly teasing, late night confessions, of simple random discussion, of meals shared at the most ungodly and at normal hours of the night or day, of tears, of laughter, pranks and angst. There was no 'delete' button or 'backspace'. He couldn't pretend it was nothing. He refused to do that. His heart, just like his ex-lover, refused to listen to anyone. There was no 'brain bleach' that could stain out the bitterness that infected his soul after losing  _him_. Him, the only one he was keen on keeping by his side for as long as he lived. Him, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, the famous painter of this seemingly God forsaken town.   
  
"Um, mister, if you don't mind…", with a gentle voice, the waitress pulled him out of his thoughts, making him shift his gaze to meet her big round grey eyes.  
  
"I would like a cup of coffee…", he said in the end, no real emotion to display. She blushed and nodded.  
  
"Anything else…?" she asked, her hand trembling slightly as she wrote down his order, which made him wonder if she was new or she was just easily intimidated- although he didn't see why, because in all honesty he thought of himself as a bit dull.  
  
The man shook his head and the girl left.Well, either he was way too scary or the girl had a crush on him…he didn't know. He shrugged not carrying which was the truth. He didn't hate girls, only that they were not his cup of tea.  
  
Left alone he could just go back to what he was doing before, which was fine even if he originally planned to go out and sketch something. He should have known better- his muse was just as gone as his lover.  
  
 _I am thinking about him again._  he thought, a dulling ache stabbing him in the heart, as he pulled his sketch pad out of the black messenger bag he carried after him all the time, even if he knew he might never find his muse.  
  
He was Kurosaki Ichigo, age 23, a famous artist or so he were…The man lost his muse after a certain person left him. And that happened a year before. In all that time, Ichigo hadn't been able to draw anything worth looking at, not even the simplest things he used to draw in school. But he still carried his sketch pad after him, he still walked down the streets hoping he would find his muse again. But in vain… The bluenette stole both his heart and will to create.  
  
In the present, Kurosaki Ichigo was working at a small library in District 7, also called The Old District. The library wasn't too famous, but people still borrowed books from there. And though a lot of people visited the small library called "Mary Rose", no one recognized him. They had no idea the librarian was the famous artist Kurosaki Ichigo, even though they all knew his name. Society had completely forgotten him and, somehow, so did he.  
  
The orangette didn't even see when the girl brought him his coffee, but he absently grabbed the cup and sipped slowly while staring the sketch pad. No matter where he looked he couldn't see anything worth capturing on paper. The colours were dull, the people where just people surrounding him. He felt invisible, transparent and everything around him was the same.  
  
Sighing, he put down the cup and hid his face behind his big sun-kissed hands, his long fingers covering his beautiful, but remorseful face. He felt so lost he couldn't even cry. He closed his mocha eyes and he was flooded by memories of him yet again. But he didn't open them.  
  
Even if they hurt him, it was all he had anymore.  
  
He remembered his rough yet soft voice calling him in the morning. And his powerful arms holding him tightly, as if he was never letting the orangette go. Ironic enough, that's what they did. And those times they used to draw together and how the man corrupted him into drawing, him the literature student became and Art and Design student after Grimmjow entered his life. And those soft, yet selfish lips that threatened to swallow him whole, his entire being were most likely pressed against someone's else and Ichigo wasn't sure he could handle that. Or…NO MORE!   
  
He couldn't stand it anymore.  
  
Hot tears started to run down his cheeks soaking his palms.  _So pathetic_ , he thought, _a grown man crying in public!_ Lucky him the bar was poorly lightened and that he was covering his face with his palms...  
  
A soft guitar song was played somewhere near him…that's what drew his attention in the first place. He thought he imagined it, but he listened carefully and his ears weren't fooling him, not this time. Wiping his tears he looked around. At the table next to his , a man was playing a black classic guitar.  
  
The song was sad and Ichigo assumed it was a sad love song, because honestly, it was all he could think of. Curious, he shifted his gaze to the man who was playing the guitar. He blinked a few times trying to see through the thick smoke and the few tears that stubbornly stayed in his eyes, blurring his vision, as if trying to warn him not to catch sight of the guitarist.  
  
Too late. Just like his heart, he refused to obey.  
  
The guitarist was wearing black. His sleeves were rolled up his alabaster arms. Black jeans and black shirt hugged his lithe form and the two unbuttoned buttons exposed a parcel of the long beautiful neck the man had. His eyes were closed and the man looked like a marble statue, like a golden treasure glowing in the darkest temple on the Earth.  
  
Ichigo couldn't move his gaze away from him. That man had something strange about him. No, maybe not strange, but different. He was, without a doubt, beautiful, Ichigo would give him that. But his beauty wasn't a wild one, like Grimmjow's. He was more delicate, more mysterious, cold and otherworldly. Yes, otherworldly.  
  
The pale male stared at the orangette at the other table. His face was serious, almost as if he was trying to pierce through the orange haired man mind, although Ichigo was highly doubting the stranger was  _even_ looking at him.   
  
While the orangette was trying to convince himself it was only his imagination, the mysterious man started to play the guitar again.  
  
For Ichigo's despair it was another sad song. But this time the carrot top didn't cover his face to cry. This time he was looking at the man with interest occasionally sipping his not-so-hot-anymore coffee.  
  
 _Without paying much attention to it, he grabbed his pencil and began to sketch…_


	2. Mysteries and lonely songs

White feathers were floating in the air, some of them landing on the red satin sheet while other landed on tanned skin. Two sun-kissed fingers were gently running on the tanned hip.

The moonlight entered through the window, illuminating the large room. A cold breeze hit their skin, ruffled their hair. Red candles were lighting the white bedroom, adding a note of romance. The flames trembled while the wind blew through the window.

Mocha eyes moved their gaze from the sleeping man to look at the full moon outside. The stars were shining more brightly than ever, or so Ichigo thought. He smiled softly while he held the hand of the other man…

If he could wish anything he would choose to stay like that forever… But the more he wanted to stay, the more he went away. A part of him already knew that it was going to an end soon. Yet he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"Oi…", a soft low voice called.

Cocoa pools turned to look at the man. In those warm, beautiful and gentle cocoa eyes was reflected a picture of a shirtless man. His muscled were well-toned, his lips curled in a sly smirk, his sharp white teeth showing slightly. And his blue hair was as messy as always, while his baby blue eyes were looking at him hungrily.

Ichigo's long finger moved forward wanting to reach the bluenette's cheek, but before he could touch it, Grimmjow started to disappear. The orangette panicked and tried to catch him before he was gone, but in vain. He vanished the moment his finger touched him.

He had been dreaming all the time…again.

***

Ichigo opened his eyes breathing heavily. He looked around as if he were searching for some proof he hadn't been dreaming again, but it was useless. His sheets weren't red, but white and there was no white feather near him, no candle. Still hoping he looked at the sky, which was darker than ever.

The man threw himself in bed making it creak. He grabbed the pillow next to him and buried his face in it. Clenching his teeth he started to cry just like a baby. He hated being weak, he wasn't weak yet…Ichigo had been having that dream for more than a month already. It was a dream about their last night. When the morning came Grimmjow and all his stuff were nowhere to be found. It felt like he had never been there to begin with. The young artist searched all over the flat but the bluenette's things were gone. All of them. His clothes, his paints, even their photos were gone.

He had left him and never turned back...

Angered and frustrated he threw the pillow he grabbed earlier away, on the floor and he stood up. He reached out for the light switch, but the bulb refused to turn on. The orangette left the room and went to the bathroom. He grabbed the few candles he had but never used them because of a certain reason and he returned in his room.

Under his bed was lying his black bag in which was his sketch pad. Ichigo opened it and looked at all the sketches he had done in the past week. All the papers were drawn, a miracle. But before he could be happy he realized and almost dropped his work.

The only thing he had drawn was only one person…

"Impossible!" he said softly while his brown pools were widening in shock. With his hands shaking he looked through his work and his fears were true… Either it was the man playing the guitar, or the man looking through the window, or the man looking at him, it was the same person. And if that wasn't enough...His drawings had no eyes. Wait, wait, wait! WHAT? Yes, the man he had been drawing all the week had no eyes. Ichigo's heart started to beat faster. It was impossible. Maybe he had forgotten to draw them. After all they were…blue? No. Maybe green? Definitely not! Or maybe they were brown like his? But that wasn't the case either…"I've never seen his eyes…", he whispered being afraid to say it out loud. "But that's impossible! Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention. God knows I'm the most reckless guy on this planet!"

He nodded and smiled faintly. That must have been the explication.

_A week ago, 12th December 2012_

Ichigo was sitting at the table sketching on the first paper sheet of his sketch pad. At the table near his was staying an albino guitarist who was playing his sad songs as if we owned the place. The young painter was impressed. The pale male looked like a god or some supernatural being staying there in the poor lightened bar singing as if it was the right thing to do when you go into a bar. No one minded him, not even the drunkest drunkard dared to tell him to leave. Either he was invisible and that meant Ichigo was imagining things, or the male was real and he was a regular. Yeah, maybe…

The mysterious guitarist had commanded a cup of coffee too, or so Ichigo thought; he wasn't sure about it and it wasn't that important. What really mattered was the fact that the albino looked beautiful even when he drunk whatever he was drinking. So Ichigo took advantage of it and made as many sketches as he could.

When he was preparing to take a nap the guitarist was standing up ready to leave. He grabbed his black guitar and left the bar leaving Ichigo quiet disappointed.

The young artist finished his coffee and left the bar or restaurant or whatever it was too. He felt a bit down…

_6 days ago, 13th December 2012_

The carrot top was walking down the streets with his black outfit and his black bag again. It wasn't snowing anymore, but it was colder than the other day. Ichigo scanned everything his eyes landed on, but nothing seemed to interest him.   
Hours passed and nothing happened. Maybe he must give up, maybe he wasn't as talented as he thought. Sighing he looked at the ground defeated. His black boots were a little dirty and worn out. Maybe he should buy himself new boots. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Those boots were the gift Grimmjow gave him on his birthday, two years ago.

Thinking about random stuff he continued walking not paying attention to the location. After a while he found himself staying in front of "Le Chat Noir" again. Shrugging he entered the bar and stood at the table he had stayed the other day. The same waitress came and he commanded another cup of coffee. And if the deja-vu feeling he had wasn't enough after five minutes the bar's black door opened and a pale male carrying a guitar entered and occupied the same table he had in the other day.

Meanwhile Ichigo was wiping his eyes trying to make himself sure he wasn't dreaming. He blinked a few times and the man didn't disappear. So he wasn't nuts…Good.

And the albino started to sing again, but some other songs. The songs he played weren't about love this time, but loneliness. Ichigo didn't really understand it, but a part of him, a wiser part of him knew. Kurosaki rested his head in his palms while the pale male played his full of loneliness songs, forgetting about his coffee, or his sketches or anything else that had nothing to do with the stranger. Ichigo studied every move his muse made with selfish eyes, although he wasn't aware of that…

But just like the other day, after he finished his cup of something he left leaving the young painter perplexed and on the same time totally fascinated.

And this way Ichigo ended going daily to that bar. He knew he couldn't fight it, that he couldn't run away. In fact he tried to run away, but he, somehow, ended up in front of that bar. It was as if he was some metal pawn and the old black building a huge, old and creepy magnet.

"I've never seen his eyes, although he looked at me. It's way too dark in that bar." he said frustrated. How was he going to finish his work without drawing his eyes? "Well, I can imagine them. Right?" he thought then smirked feeling smart for his brilliant idea. 

Ichigo grabbed his pencil and tried to draw them, but he failed. He couldn't imagine them! If he did that he would ruin the whole thing.

Hours passed and morning came and the orangette was still trying to draw the stranger's eyes, only to fail miserably. He had to admit, the guitarist wasn't only beautiful, but unique! He was, without a doubt, royally fucked. To complete his masterpiece he had to approach the guitarist or at least to meet him outside…

Mission 1: stalk the pale guitarist begun.


	3. The Black Hoodie

_21st December 2012_

_My name is Kurosaki Ichigo. I am 23 years old. I am an artist or so they used to say until I lost muse. So I am currently working in a library in The Old District._

_Today is different. And I don’t say this because of the weather, which is as shitty as ever. In fact I have no idea why this day is different. It just is… that’s all._

Ichigo wrote down quickly. It wasn’t like him to write a journal. When he was in high-school he kept a journal, but that only brought him trouble. He had always been an air-head and in a day, a winter day, when he was 17, he lost his journal. Unfortunately, the creepiest guy in his school found it and he blackmailed him until they graduated. Or to be honest, not until they graduated, but until they got to know each other. After that…everything went upside down. But Ichigo was happy back then.

He stopped writing a journal after Jaegerjaques found it and made fun of him a whole month. He stopped because he was afraid the bastard would find it again, but not only because of that. He kept that journal because he felt alone.

So now, there he was, writing again. No matter how much he tried to lie to himself, he couldn’t do it forever. He was alone. And he couldn’t bear it anymore.

After he had written about his mysterious guitarist and his crazy mission, he closed the diary and stretched his back.

Ichigo was sitting at his desk in his living-room. The sunlight entered through the window illuminating the room with a sick bright color. It was a sunny winter day, a rare thing in KarakuraTown, where the weather was always gloomy. But Ichigo didn’t enjoy the light that much. He was tired after he stood up all night long trying to sketch the stranger’s eyes. Yes, after two days of trying he still hadn’t given up. Initially, he thought that he should stalk the guitarist, but when he had to do it, he suddenly felt too embarrassed so he gave up. What a coward!

He stood up and looked lazily around. The orangette had no desire to go to his work, but he had no choice, so he walked even more lazily to his room to change.

Ichigo looked in his closed and sighed. All his favorite clothes, which were black, were dirty. Scratching his head he grabbed a pair of skinny red jeans and a white blouse which was a bit too skimpy if you asked him, but he didn’t have time for that. He looked in the big mirror in the hall before he grabbed his black coat. He hated bright colors, yet he had no choice.

Sighing for one more time he grabbed his black bag and left the flat.

It was cold outside and he didn’t have a car so he started to run. The neighborhood was peaceful, that because most of the people who lived there were old and all the delinquents were gone. The Old District had its name for a reason. When Ichigo was in high-school The Old District was the most dangerous place in the town, but now everything was gone.

In ten minutes Ichigo was there, at his workplace, an old, but beautiful library. He entered and occupied his office. It was going to be a long day.

***

Five hours had passed since Ichigo came to the library. It seemed that day was an easy one with not too many people coming by. So when he was ready to go and get himself a coffee from the café near by, the library’s door opened wide only to reveal chocolate eyes and spiky orange hair. Ichigo jumped in his feet eyes widened.

“Kon!” he whispered in a strangled voice. It was impossible…!

“Yo, Ichi-chan!” the other male, Kon, said smirking while waving his hand. “How’s it going? Hmmm…?” he asked.

“What are you doing here?” he asked narrowing his eyes dangerously. “Don’t you have some other stuff to do? Say!” Ichigo snapped flicking his hand all over like a madman.

“Easy, man. I am not here to do anything bad. I just came to visit you, to see how you’re doing. What’s so bad about it?” the other male asked in an innocent voice.

“What’s so bad about it? Everything! Are you nuts? Every time I see you, something bad happens.” the orangette snapped furiously. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“But you don’t want to be left alone, Ichi-chan.” Kon said in a serious voice, that time. “That’s why you were keeping that diary back then. Because you hated to be lonely. So don’t lie to me. I’m not Grimmjow. You can’t fool me with your nonchalant attitude. I know you suffer. So I am here to help you.” He added even more serious.

“Kon…I appreciate that you care about me, but I don’t need your pity. Plus, I am perfectly fine. So thanks for worrying about me! Now you can go and do whatever you were doing before.” Kurosaki said in a glacial voice.

“Fine, but I will come back soon. Don’t forget, you are mine, Ichi-nii!” the other male left the library.

That day couldn’t go worse, or so Ichigo thought at that time.

After his shift ended, Ichigo left the library with the intention to go and relax for a couple of hours. He had no idea where to go or what to do so he just walked aimlessly, just like always. A brilliant idea hit him. He could go to “Le Chat Noir”. It was warm inside, they served good coffee and they had good music. Not to mention they had hot mysterious guitarists there.

Smiling he started to walk faster through the dark. It was already night, the wind was blowing wildly and it recently started to snow. The street light in that area was…oh, well. There was no such thing, so he more like guessed where he was. Instead of worrying, the carrot top continued to walk hoping he would make it without any problems.

It seemed that luck wasn’t with him that day. While walking, he tripped and fell to the frozen ground. A small “ouch” could be heard coming from him while he tried to stand up.

“Need help?” a low baritone voice asked sending shivers down the orangette’s spine.

“Ummm…”, that was all Ichigo could say. He was completely hypnotized by that mesmerizing voice.

The other chuckled and took Ichigo from the ground as if he were a little child. On his feet again, in complete darkness and being held by his armpits by stranger, Ichigo should be afraid or at least embarrassed. But he was none of this. In fact, his head was totally empty and his heart was threatening to break his chest. Yet he did nothing.

“Ummm…Thanks.” he said in the end in a small voice, almost hoping that the stranger had forgotten about his presence.

“No biggie, kid.” the other male said in an amused voice.

“I am not a kid!” Ichigo said angry. “I am 23 years old for God’s sake!”

“My bad. So where to, 23 years old kid?” the other male said even more amused.

“That’s none of your business! Now if you don’t mind…” Ichigo said and continued his walk through the darkness.

But he couldn’t make more than seven steps that he tripped again. The other male which looked at him full of curiosity started to laugh that time. He laughed so hard it creeped Ichigo out.

“So, where to?” he asked again approaching the orangette who was lying on the ground like an idiot.

“Le Chat Noir”, he said simply, too embarrassed to argue.

“My, my. We’re goin’ to da same place.” the other man said in a mysterious voice and lifted Ichigo up one more time. “Now, grab my hand.” he said. “I’ll take care of ya.” he almost purred those words.

The orangette was too fascinated to even think, so he just hold the stranger’s cold hand while they walked to their destination, not carrying that they had just met. In fact, his head was still blank and he didn’t seem to mind it. When they had reached a lightened street the stranger let go of Ichigo’s hand and continued to walk. Ichigo was kind of disappointed, but he would never admit that. His rescuer wore a black hoodie and black jeans. Ichigo couldn’t see his hair or his face since he was behind him, too afraid to move faster so he would not trip on the ice again.

Soon they were entering the bar and his rescuer turned to face him while he took of his hoodie.

Mocha eyes widened in surprise while he looked at his rescuer. It couldn’t be possible…!

“Yo, Strawberry-boy, wanna share a table with me?” the other said ignoring Ichigo’s dropped mouth.

“I…uhh…yes.” he barely whispered.

So the two of them sat down at the same table. Ichigo took of his coat remaining only in his way-too-tight blouse. He, then, turned to have a look at his rescuer.

He had white hair, like an old man’s, but it was spiky, like his. His skin was as white as snow. And his eyes…oh, his eyes were gorgeous! They were so unusual, yet…His gold irises were surrounded by a sea of black. And in them, Ichigo could see power and confidence. His eyes held secrets that never reached the light; his eyes were the biggest sin ever. Full of secrets, of danger and mystery. Pale lips curled in a satisfied smirk while the young artist was obviously staring at him.

As in Ichi’s case, he was totally frozen. His rescuer was no one else, but the mysterious guitarist!

“Name’s Shirosaki Hichigo. But call me Shiro. Yers?” he said narrowing his eyes and emitting an i-am-so-sexy vibe.

“I-I am Kurosaki Ichigo.” the orangette said feeling his cheeks heating up

“Oh, so I was right. Yer a strawberry after all. Hmmm…” the albino said licking his pale lips.

“Don’t call me that!” Ichigo snapped embarrassed. “My name means the one who protects not a damn fruit!” he continued his face completely red from anger and embarrassment.

“Oi, oi. Calm down. I was only joking.” the albino said chuckling.

“Ummm…what would you like to serve, misters?” the waitress interrupted them. It was the orange haired girl.

“How about some whiskey, Hime-chan?” the albino purred so seductively Ichigo wanted to throw up.

“Sure, Shirosaki-san.” the girl chirped. “And you, mister?” she said turning to face the not-so-pleased-for-some-unknown-reason orangette.

“The same.” the pale male said before Ichigo could say anything.

“The hell I’m having the same!” he snapped. “A cup of coffee would do.” he added trying to calm him down.

“Ya really like coffee, dontcha? That’s the only thing ya drink.” Shirosaki said thoughtful. “Believe me, tryin’ somethin’ else ain’t a bad thing, Ichi.” the albino stated and shrugged.

Ichigo shrugged too tired to argue with the albino. He might be sexy and stuff, but he was a total pain. The orangette was so tired he didn’t even argue about the nickname. The waitress left and Ichigo found himself thinking. Did the albino know her? If he did, then what was their relationship? Did she like him? What about him? Aghh…he shouldn’t be thinking about that!

He ruffled his bright orange hair trying to shake his too dangerous thoughts. It was none of his business the pale man’s private life, yet…he felt like it was. Or at least he wanted to be. Unconsciously he lusted for the albino since the first time he had seen him. But he would never admit that. He was Grimmjow’s. And Grimmjow was…oh, well, not his. But that didn’t matter! He couldn’t betray him by forgetting about him.

“Here are your drinks. Please enjoy them!” the girl chirped and walked away before the males could thank her. The bar was pretty busy that night.

“Do you know her?” Ichigo asked not being able to refrain himself.

“Dunno. Not really. I know her name ‘n’ a few things, but I think tha’ they are only rumors.” the albino said scratching his chin. “Why? Ya like ‘er?” he, then, added. “I hafta admit tha’ she’s a piece o’ cake, but I heard tha’ she’s pretty weird.”

“No. I don’t like her.” Ichigo said plain. Firstly he didn’t like girls and secondly he already loved someone else.

“Then…Are ya jealous?” Shirosaki said smirking. Oh no! Not that smirk… That smirk reminded Ichigo of his ex.

“Why would I be? It’s none of my business what you do with your private life. I just met you, after all.” Ichigo said it in a nonchalant voice, trying to seem indifferent, trying to convince himself that he did not like the white bastard.

“I know, I know.” Shiro said quickly waving his hand to show Ichigo that he was joking. “Sorry, I tend to joke too much when I am excited.”

“You are…WHAT?” Ichigo almost shouted not believing his ears.

“I mean I am excited when I meet new people. I like makin’ new friends.” The albino explained in a sincerely innocent voice. Then he understood. He started laughing.

“Would you stop…? People are looking at us.” Ichigo whispered looking anywhere but not at the pale male.

“Ok, ok.” Shiro said trying to stop, but that only caused him to laugh harder.

“Ok, I’m leaving…” Ichigo said super embarrassed grabbing his coat.

Shirosaki stopped laughing suddenly and grabbed the orangette’s arm before he could go away. He raised his pale hand to make the other stay a while so that he could regain his breath.

Staying there, on the chair and breathing hard…It was a sight Ichigo wouldn’t want to miss. Even though Shirosaki was very pale, black suited him. It made him look even more mysterious, more beautiful, sexier…Black highlighted all his sexy…umm…beautiful features.

“Don’t leave, Ichigo.” the albino said, gold pools surrounded by a sea of black looking at him sincerely. “I didn’t mean ta laugh tha’ hard. It’s just tha’… how should I put it? Ya were too cute.”

“I am not cute, damn it!” Ichigo said pouting. “You know, you can’t call a guy cute.” he said looking at the albino.

“I know. I know. That’s why I’m apologizin’. Can ya give meh another chance?” the pale male said. “Pwease?” he said in a baby-like voice.

“Ok, ok. But you have stop being like this.” Ichigo said annoyed.

“Like wha’?” the other asked narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“Acting like child. Stop that. It’s annoying.” the orangette said and sat down on his chair.

“Oh, so Ichi wants me ta act like an adult. What do ya really want, I-chi-go?” Shirosaki almost purred his name.

Ichigo shook his head in disapproval. There were so many things he had to thing about, but a part of him refused to do it. That part of him knew that if he thought too much about the pale…things would go on the dangerous path for sure. So the best thing he could do was to ignore those weird questions that started to pop up in his head.

“Where do you work, Shirosaki?” Ichigo asked then drunk from his glass.

“I’m currently not workin’. The boss ‘rom the supermarket I used ta work at, fired meh ‘cuz he wanted a chick doin’ his work, if ya know what I mean.” the pale male answered bitterly.

“That sucks.” the carrot top said shaking his head.

“Oww. Ichi said a bad word. I can’t believe ‘t!” Shiro made fun of him.

“Oh, stop it. I am not that innocent.” Ichigo said and drunk the rest of his drink.

“Turn the page” by Metallica started to be played somewhere nearby and Ichigo realized that it was his own phone. Mocha eyes narrowed while he read the name of his caller. “Kon Kurosaki”. The carrot top didn’t answer.

“Not answerin’?” Shirosaki said indifferently.

“Nah.” Ichigo said simply. “Now if you don’t mind, I should go home.

“Leavin’ so soon, Ichi-chan?” Shiro asked faking his pouting.

“Don’t call me that!” the orangette snapped. “Anything but that. I hate it.” Ichigo said remembering his meeting with Kon in the morning. “And yes, I am leaving. I am working tomorrow, you know.”

“Oh, ok. Then…see ya tomorrow.” the albino said grinning.

“Yeah.” and Ichigo grabbed his coat and put it on. “See you tomorrow.” he added unaware of the things he was saying.

Maybe it was the alcohol to blame. Or maybe the whiskey he drunk. Or the vanilla scent the pale male emanated. Whatever it was it made Ichigo feel like floating…

And he liked it…


	4. Blue Feathers

_“Flyin’…”_

His hands were shaking and Ichigo dropped the key. Cursing heavily he bend down and grabbed the key from the floor. In his head was a total mess, a combination between black and gold eyes and pale grins. He stood up and tried to unlock his door. In the end he succeeded and entered his flat. Tired, he unbuttoned his coat and tossed it on the couch together with his bag.

“Ouch!” a voice wailed in the living-room.

Ichigo froze in the hall. Was he so drunk that he couldn’t even hear the right things? He shrugged his shoulders and when he was ready to go in his room he heard someone or something moving in the living room.

“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice almost shaking.

No answer came from the living room. Yeah, he must be hearing things.

He took off his shocks and tossed them on the floor. The orangette entered in the kitchen, turned on the light and opened the fridge. Mocha eyes searched for something delicious to eat and they stopped on some strawberry ice-cream. And then he left the kitchen and went to the living-room. The carrot top turned on the light and he dropped the ice-cream.

On his brown couch, in the living room, there was sitting someone…

“Yo! How’s it going?” his gaze fell on the ice-cream dropped on the floor. “Are you eating yourself? Isn’t that illegal?” he joked and laughed sarcastically.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Ichigo shouted pointing his sun-kissed finger at the male who invaded his flat.

“My, my. Is this the way you treat your guests?” the uninvited guest said and grinned.

“I did not invite you in here! Get out before I get angry.” he said and pointed to the front door.

The guest stood up and walked to Ichigo. He bent down and picked up the ice cream.

“Tastes good, Ichi-chan.” he said after he tasted the ice cream.

“Kon, what are you doing here? And how the hell did you enter my house? Are you a stalker?” Ichigo questioned his brother who was smiling like and idiot, just like always.

Kon Kurosaki was the name of the male who invaded the orangette’s living-room. He had bright spiky orange hair, big mocha eyes, tanned skin. In short, he was Ichigo’s twin brother. The only visible difference between them was the way they gazed at the world. While Kon had a bright and relaxed glance, his brother always wore a scowl on his face. That made him look always angry and dangerous.

“Ichigo”, his brother said in a serious voice this time. “Why do you hate me so much?” he asked.

Silence fell upon them. Ichigo wasn’t sure what to answer. In fact, he had no idea why his brother’s presence angered him so much. When they were kids they were inseparable, they used to continue each other’s sentences and all they did, they did together. Until…until the i accident /i happened.

Since that day, they barely talked to each other. Ichigo moved in a separated room and he started keeping secrets. Kon insisted to talk to him, but they only ended up fighting. And then Ichigo graduated and moved out with Grimmjow. Even so, Kon still showed up from time to time. But the last time Ichigo had seen Kon was two years ago. He thought that maybe Kon had given up bothering him. But how wrong he was! Ichigo should have known better. Kon never, but never, gave up!

“I don’t hate you, Kon. You know very well I don’t…” Ichigo said feeling a bit guilty for yelling at his brother every time they met.

“I don’t know, Ichigo. I really don’t know anymore. You’ve changed so much I don’t even recognize you.” the other carrot top said bitterly.

“Kon” he said. “Kon” he repeated trying to get his twin’s attention. “I-I didn’t mean to be mean.”

“Sorry I bothered you again. I promise I will never do it again. Bye!” Kon said sadly and wanted to leave, but Ichigo stopped him by grabbing his arm.

Kon’s body froze as he felt his twin’s fingers on his skin. His brother, Kurosaki Ichigo was a mystery for Kon. He was introverted, always angry and hard to read. That’s how everyone saw him. But Kon still saw him as a little brave boy. When they were kids, Ichigo always protected him, played with him, cared for him. And Kon knew…Ichigo’s heart didn’t die. His kindness didn’t vanish away, it was only hard to access.

Kon looked at his brother sadly. And for his shock, the orangette looked at him softly and guiltiness could be seen in mocha eyes.

“Kon-nii.” he mumbled softly hoping that no one heard him.

His brother’s eyes widened in surprise. How long has it been since he called him that? Ten years? Or more?

“Ichi-nii.” he said simply and hugged his brother, burying his face on Ichigo’s well-toned chest.

Even though they looked the same, their personalities were completely different. Ichigo had always been brave, loud and powerful, while Kon was shy, more silent and always got bullied. When they were kids, people tended to joke and said that Kon was a girl, but Kon never argued. He just stood there, listened how people talked about him and said nothing. He felt safe at Ichi’s side, he thought that if something bad happened, Ichi-nii would always come and save him. In his eyes, Ichigo was a hero.

Ichigo returned the embrace and buried his face on Kon shoulders. He was ashamed. How could he do this to his brother? If his mother saw him, she would be disappointed. Sighing heavily he let Kon go to look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kon. I’ve disappointed you and mom.” he said softly.

“Ichigo” he said and grabbed his brother’s face with his palms. “It’s ok. It’s never too late to change things. Mom would be proud of you. I mean, look at you. You could have gone worse. Don’t worry, Ichi-chan. I will always stand by your side. Sorry for…”

“No more. It’s not really your fault. You are who you are, even I can’t change you. Anyway…thanks.” he said and smiled softly, a rare thing for the orangette.

Kon didn’t say anything, but smiled too. His mission was completed: make Ichigo smile.

***

The sun entered through the window, sinking the large room in bright light. It was another sunny day in KarakuraTown. The snow that accumulated on the streets of The Old District started to melt down. Ichigo turned on the other side of the bed, hugging his pillow tight. But his body hit something hard and he mumbled some weird things. After a few minutes Ichigo jumped scared.His cocoa eyes scanned the room and froze while looking at his bed. Near him stood another man. The man was shirtless and a part of Ichigo started to make scenarios. Was it Grimmjow? But before he could imagine anything else, a shock of orange hit him.

“Kon, get up.” he said putting his hand on the males back and shaking him, trying to wake him up.

“Mmm…Only five minutes.” the other mumbled through his sleep. He felt so good he didn’t want to wake up. Reality was way too shitty for his tastes.

“Tch.” Ichigo said and jumped out of the bed.

He left the room scratching his head. The young artist was going to make himself some coffee. As for Kon, the bastard could just die.

The kitchen was a total mess. But that didn’t surprise Ichigo at all. His brother and he spent their night doing experiments in the kitchen. It was their favorite thing to do when they got free time. Ichigo started to clean up the kitchen, moving quickly, well-aware of the fact that he had to go to work. And soon he got company, as he was making a total fuss in the kitchen.

“You never change, now do you?” the other commented slightly annoyed; he really hated mornings. “Let me clean up.” Kon said and Ichigo just obeyed. He kind of hated to clean up.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asked and his brother nodded.

After Kon cleaned up the kitchen and after the coffee was prepared the Kurosaki brothers sat down at the table. Ichigo grabbed his cup and held it to warm up his hands. Kon took a sip from his coffee and set his gaze on Ichi’s body for a couple of seconds. The idiot was shirtless, yet he was complaining about being cold. Kon moved his gaze from Ichi’s tanned chest. He couldn’t afford to lose his control…

“Still single?” Ichigo asked suddenly.

“Yeah.” His brother said and closed his eyes. What was wrong with his brother in that morning?

“What about Hinata-chan?” Ichigo continued ask him questions that made Kon feel awkward.

“Hinata-chan?” he asked frowning. “Ahh, yeah…We broke up.” Kon said bitterly. He had totally forgotten about his so-called-ex-that-never-existed-to-begin-with.

It was a lie just to calm Ichigo down. In reality, he had never had a girlfriend and he knew he would never have one. Not a girlfriend, but a boyfriend, maybe. Yes, Kon, just like Ichigo, was gay. (And no, he didn’t wear pink stuff, mind you.) But he had never told anyone about his sexual orientation. And if that wasn’t enough, he had an one-sided crush.

“What about you?” Kon found himself asking after he took another sip from his hot mocha liquid.

“Just like ever.” his brother said and finished his coffee.

Kon had wanted to say something, but he kept silent. He knew Ichigo wouldn’t listen to him if he told him that he should get over Grimmjow. Ichigo had always been a stubborn bastard, so it was useless.

Ichigo went to the bathroom to take a shower and Kon went to the living room. He threw himself in the couch and thought. The other day they shared the same bed, just like they used to when they were kids. Maybe for Ichigo didn’t mean anything, but for Kon, it was really important. He just stood there, on the couch, replaying the last night in his mind…

Meanwhile, Ichigo got out of the shower with only one towel on him, covering his important parts. Kon’s eyes widened seeing his brother’s oh-so-perfect body. The idiot got out of the shower so naked with water droplets running down his well-toned body. His bright hair was also wet and a sweet smell of cinnamon came from Ichi. It was a miracle Kon wasn’t having a huge nosebleed.

Instead of bleeding all over, Kon’s face only heated up dangerously and he turned his back at his stupid twin.

“Oi! Don’t tell me you got embarrassed! That’s stupid! We look exactly the same…” Ichigo said in an amused voice.

“I-I am n-not!” the other replied still not facing Ichi. “I’m tired…that’s all.” he lied knowing that he had just woken up.

Ichigo shrugged and went to his room to change. Kon sighed in relief and closed his eyes, mentally cherishing the image of Ichigo’s naked body. What a pervert.

In the other room, the orangette was searching in his closed for some clean clothes. And, then, again he remembered that all his favorite clothes were dirty. He had to pull another messed up day by wearing bright colored clothes. The young artist was a bit too paranoiac. He believed that if he wore bright colored clothes, he drew attention. By drawing attention all the misfortune would come to him. Kind of twisted.

He chose another way-too-tight-that-let-others-stare-at-his-way-too-sexy-body white blouse and a pair of skinny navy jeans. After he put his clothes on he left the room and went to the kitchen to grab some cookies for work.

Scratching his head, he went to the living room with the intention to ask Kon how he got in, but he found the carrot top sleeping like a baby on the couch. Ichigo smiled softly and covered his brother with a blanket. He untied the brown curtains in the living room so that the sun couldn’t bother his twin’s sleep.

After doing that, Ichigo bent down and kissed Kon’s forehead lightly.

It was already 3 pm and Ichigo was bored as hell. It was one of those days when only one or two people visited the library. He played lazily with a pen he found on his office. Maybe he should take a break and patrol a little in the library. Find some cool books to read. Or at least to take a break. He felt a bit dizzy.

He stood up and started to walk. He passed near several old shelves and stopped at the table where people used to read. And his blood froze in his veins. Totally asleep, the albino from the other day sat on a chair at that table, his white head resting on a book he borrowed. He was wearing the same black hoodie he wore the other day. Beside him, lied his black guitar.

For Ichigo, it was a mystery. How did the albino enter the library without getting noticed? All the things that the guy did were so strange. Ichigo felt that if he turned his head to look somewhere else, the pale male could disappear entirely, as if he never were there, to begin with. So he walked near the albino guitarist and sat on the chair near him. Cocoa pools watched the pale male sleeping soundless on the table. His back was going up and down and Ichigo felt the urge to touch that man. In his head a voice was shouting at him, it said that he had to do it, to feel that snow-white skin under his fingers again. Every cell in his body shouted at him to do it. His heart started to beat crazily in his chest.

Another part of him, smaller, told him to calm down and get away from the albino. But how was that even possible? From the first second his eyes landed on that guy, he just couldn’t stay away. He shrugged. What could possibly go wrong? It wasn’t like he killed him if he touched him, right?

Long fingers reached out for the soft white hair. And for the orangette’s surprise it was really silky. His lips curled in a smile. He could play with his ivory hair like forever and he wouldn’t get tired of it. The albino sighed under his touch and Ichigo removed his fingers scared. But the albino didn’t wake up. The young artist sighed in relief and touched the snow white cheek. The contact made the carrot top feel ticklish.

Ichigo looked at him fascinated not wanting that moment to vanish. But just like other good things, it had to end. It was a mystery for the orangette…why all the good things had to end? He stood up and went after his sketch pad. At least he could do something with his free time. So when he returned, he sat down on the chair and started to draw the sleeping albino.

Hours passed and his sketch pad was full of drawings. Meanwhile, the young artist fell asleep as well.

***

Outside, looking through the window, stood a man who smiled seeing the two males sleeping like babies. Then, he vanished in the night, leaving behind him blue feathers…


	5. Rainy Days

Strawberry fragrance hit him; eerie pools gazed through the darkness at the sleeping man next to him. The silver moonlight entered through the window, illuminating the library softly.

Pale lips curled in a grin as gold pools fixed the orangette next to him. His bright orange locks were softly shining as the moonlight touched him. His sun-kissed skin seemed paler, somehow unnatural.

Under him, there was a sketchbook. Shirosaki widened his eyes in surprise. What was the carrot top doing with it? Curiously he reached out after the sketchbook and took it slowly. He opened it and froze.

On every page there were sketches of him. Some of them were painted, some were only in crayon and the last one was one with him sleeping.

So his suspicions were right. He remembered the first time he saw the orangette. He was staying at the table next to him. He remarked him the first time he entered the bar, after all the carrot top was hard to miss with that hair. His hands were covering his face. The albino thought that he was tired, but after he started playing the guitar he could see the orangette with the corner of his eyes. Brown pools were shining in the diffuse light. Had he been crying? The albino continued his song thinking about the orangette. Why would a gorgeous man like him cry?

The next day, the orangette came to the bar again and sat at the same table. He always carried with him a sketchbook. What was he doing with it? What was he drawing? A part of him thought that it was him the person he drew…

Shirosaki put the sketchpad on the table and turned his gaze to the sleeping orangette. And for the first time in a long time, he smiled. He didn't grin or smirk, but smiled. It had been a long time since he last smiled from the bottom of his heart. He didn't know exactly why, but the fact that the orangette drew him so well warmed his heart. In reality, everyone hated him. They were afraid of him since he had a strange appearance and they usually called him names.

But Ichigo seemed to be different. He didn't mind to share a table with him or to walk next to him down the street.

Black and gold pools fixed the orangette. He stood up quickly and walked towards Ichigo. Long pale fingers reached out after orange locks. He bent over him, his snow-white fingers caressing Ichi's hair. Pale lips blew hot air on the sun-kissed ears; only one centimeter separated them.

Shiro sniffed and strawberry fragrance hit him. What the hell? The man was a walking strawberry! Then, he noticed the delicate note of spicy perfume and maybe some aftershave too. So his skin smelled like strawberry naturally. He chuckled silently blowing warm air on the orangette's ear.

Ichigo moved slightly and mumbled something in his sleep, but he didn't wake up. Shirosaki placed his fingers after the carrot top's ear and started to draw circles on his skin.

Without thinking he bent down, further and kissed lightly his ear. His pale lips felt ticklish at the contact. But in the same time, he felt curious. Unable to refrain himself anymore, he continued to kiss the young artist on his ear, then his neck, then his cheek and in the end his cherry lips.

Ichigo started to mumble in his sleep again and his body moved slightly. The albino backed away and admired the young artist again.

Mocha pools widened as he looked around. Something had woken him up. Brown eyes met with gold eyes. The guitarist's pale skin shone in the moonlight, seeming even whiter than usual. Shirosaki stood near him with a mysterious air around him, just like always. But in that evening he seemed different, somehow.

Brown eyes looked at the watch he wore on his right arm. It was eight o'clock already! Crap! He stood up, but because he was a total air-head, he tripped and fell over the albino next to him. And if that wasn't enough, he, somehow, managed to land with his cherry lips on the other's lips…

After a few moments, his face was bright red and the albino under him couldn't think of anything else but that his attacker was a strawberry, indeed.

He had to admit, he was a bit surprised, but in the same time pleased. It felt nice how their lips touched and all.

In the next second, Ichigo stood up and ran away the fastest he could. He grabbed his coat and left the library without looking back, without even locking the library.

The cold air hit him as he was running in the night, as if he were running for his life. His face was burning in embarrassment. He couldn't believe he just tripped over him and kissed him.

Without even knowing, he reached his apartment, opened the door and sat down, on the floor. He rested his head on the door and sighed. Unconsciously, his long fingers touched his lips. Then he licked them and felt a nice taste of vanilla.

One more kiss would be enough…

The sun rays entered through the window, illuminating the large flat and some rays were reaching even the hall, where Ichigo lied on the floor. His hair was messy, just like his clothes. He was still wearing his worn-out boots. But his eyes were closed and he was breathing calmly. It was just another day of December.

In the hall, a tall figure appeared, shadowing the sleeping orangette. He sighed and sat down, near Ichigo. The sunlight made their bright orange hair shine beautifully as they stood on the floor. Kon Kurosaki was caressing his brother's cheek gently with his fingers. The idiot had fallen asleep on the floor.

He took of his twin's boots and then he picked him up. Kon wasn't as powerful as his brother, but when it came to Ichigo, he, surprisingly gained power. For his brother he would do anything.

Kon carried him in his bedroom and put him gently in his bed. He unbuttoned his coat and took it off. And still, Ichigo hadn't woken up. He tossed it on the floor and the young artist remained in his white blouse and navy jeans. What a sight!

The orangette sat down near his twin, mocha eyes looked at his replica. How could be the same, yet so different? It was a mystery for Kon, a mystery he loved too much. How sad Kon was too shy to confess his feelings to his brother…

Ichigo woke up and widened his eyes in surprise. Kon had carried him in bed, hadn't he? He smiled softly and patted his brother's head lightly. He fell asleep at the door after running like a madman.

The young artist stood up and went to the bathroom. He had to take a shower to chill himself. He looked in the mirror and ruffled his hair making it look messier than before. He took off his blouse and tossed it on the ground, and then he took of his jeans and jumped on the shower.

"God bless morning showers!" he sang happily as he was washing himself. "They always make me feel so fresh!" he continued happily poured some shower gel on his hands.

The shower gel smelled nice, it smelled like mint and he loved it. He massaged his back trying to relax after a night spent on the floor. After he finished with massaging his tired body he sat down under the water. He rested his head on the wall and sighed.

No matter how much he tried to forget, images of the last night still replayed in his mind. Those pale lips were so soft… All night long he had been dreaming those lips kissing him hungrily all over his tanned body. He craved for those lips to devour his flesh, to fill it with red and purple marks. Oh, shit…

The bathroom door opened suddenly and Ichigo panicked after the shower curtain. On the other side of the bathroom, Kon was scratching his head lazily while he looked in the mirror.

He, then, realized that someone was in the shower. Without thinking he grabbed the curtain and looked. Oh, God! His face was priceless, changing shades of red every second. In the same time, Ichigo was getting paler and paler.

Kon let the curtain go and got out of the bathroom. He slammed the door and sat down. He supported his back on the door and covered his face with his palms. Oh, well that escalated quickly.

As for Ichi he was still standing in the shower shrugging his shoulders. His brother sure had been acting weird lately. But who was he to judge him?

The orangette was quite happy, it was Sunday and he had a free day. It was a perfect day for painting! The young artist went to his room and grabbed some clean clothes from the closet and put them on. He was wearing his favorite grey pajamas.

He went in the hall to pick up his bag but it was nowhere to be found. Maybe Kon took it.

"Hey, Kon, did you take my bag?" Ichigo shouted in the hall after his idiotic brother.

"What bag?" Kon asked from the kitchen while he put the kettle on the cooker. "You mean the one you always carry with you? I dunno." he added nonchalantly while standing in the doorjamb, mocha eyes fixing the panicked artist with a cool gaze.

Ichigo stood there dumbfounded as he remembered the last night. When he left the library he had totally forgotten about his sketchbook. Oh, God!

Then the only place it could have been was…

_23_ _rd_ _December 2012_

_Dear Diary,_

_I must say that I am totally screwed. Yesterday I fell asleep in the library, near the still-mysterious albino. When I woke up he was already awoken. That scared me shitless and I happened to trip…over him…over his lips. Oops! When I regained my senses I ran away and I had forgotten my sketchbook on the table._

_I realized that I lost it today so even if it was my day off I rushed to the library hoping that the sketchbook was there. But there was no trace of it._

_I can only hope that_ _**he** _ _hadn't taken it. Or if he did…I hope that, at least, he hadn't look at my drawings…Oh, God!_

_Right now, I am standing in a café thinking about my stupidity. If only…_

It was 4 o'clock. It was a cloudy winter evening in KarakuraTown. You could say that Karakura was a peaceful town with good and bad people, with delinquents and good students, with skyscrapers and traditional houses. In short, KarakuraTown was an ordinary place.

The sky getting redder as the sun was setting behind the tall skyscrapers. The clouds were heavily crossing the sky. It was one of the most beautiful scenery in KarakuraTown.

There was a legend saying that in the old days when Karakura was a young village, people used to stop their activities to look at the sunset.

In The Writer's District, in a cafe called "Destiny" the protagonist, Kurosaki Ichigo was writing in his diary. His mocha pools were clouded by uneasiness and doubt. He had finally managed to draw and he lost his sketchbook.

A few streets away, near a bakery a tall man with pale skin and dark clothes carried a guitar on his back. His white hair was making him stand in the crowd and despite the season he wore sun-glasses. A few stopped to look at him, some of them even called him names but he just walked as if nothing could bother him. His name was Shirosaki Hichigo, a 27 years old man, currently unemployed. He had nothing to do so he was heading to the café called "Destiny". If only he knew…

The waitress brought Ichigo another cup of tea. The orangette thanked her. He took the cup in his hands and sniffed it. It was nice to drink something else besides coffee.

The door opened and a tall man entered the café. His eyes searched around the place, but after a few seconds they landed on the orangette who stayed near the window. His lips curled in a wild grin…he had finally found him.

"Yo!" the albino said and sat down on the couch, in front of Ichigo.

The young artist opened his eyes shocked. Even if he had his eyes closed he knew who his visitor was. That voice…he could recognize that voice anywhere.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" the orangette asked in a shaky voice.

"I'm takin' a nap, 'f course." the other said as he put his guitar near him. "Does 't bother ya?" he asked innocently.

"No, it does not. I was just surprised, that's all." the orangette said looking at his tea.

"Good, then." the albino said. "So…what're ye doin' 'ere? Ya didn't come to our place today." he continued throwing serious gazes from behind his sunglasses.

"O-our place?" the orangette asked embarrassed. "I don't know what you are talking about." he said in a cold voice.

"The café. Yanno, the one called Le Chat Noir." he said.

"Ah…you are talking about that." the young artist managed to say, his courage vanishing every second. Of course he knew what Shiro was talking about. It was the only place they ever met.

Ichigo's eyebrow was twitching. How was he going to respond to that? He couldn't possibly tell him that he was embarrassed because of what had happened the other day.

"I thought that a change wouldn't kill me." He said still looking away.

"Ya could've at least called me. Ah, that's right. Ya don't have my number." Shiro said and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Tell me yer number." he demanded.

"No way." the orangette said.

"Don' be like tha'. It's not like I would call ye in the middle o' the night, don' worry." he explained amused.

"Ok." the orangette gave up and told him his number.

After a minute the carrot top's phone rang. He saved Shiro's number and while doing this he felt his face heating up. That idiot... was breaking through him like that.

And then they started to talk about music, about bands they liked, concerts they went to.

"Why are you wearing those?" Ichigo suddenly asked.

"Ya mean the sunglasses? Oh, well…it's cuz of my eyes. I don' like when people stare at them." He said pained. "They scare o' them." he added.

"Tha-that's not true!" the orangette said and finally looked at the other man. "I think that they are beautiful." He added in a small voice but he hadn't drifted his gaze away.

"Ya…" the albino said shocked.

Ichigo leaned forward over the table and took the albino's glasses off. He sat down and put the glasses in his black bag.

"It doesn't matter what they think. If they have a problem with your appearance let them be! There are people who like the way you are…so stop hiding! Have more confidence, idiot!" Ichigo snapped.

It was the first time someone told him those things. Since he was little he had been hated and feared by the others. Even his family hated him. His father, Aizen Sosuke, had found him disgusting and he denied him. His mother, Shirayuuki, disappeared when he was 15 years old. After that he had been living with Zangetsu, his mother's first husband. But Zangetsu, just like Shirayuuki, was a cold guy so Shiro grew up in a though environment.

"Baka!" the albino said and looked away embarrassed. "Don' say things like tha' in public. It's embarrassing, yanno." he added blushing slightly.

"Hai, hai." the orangette said amused, he wouldn't have thought that the all-mighty guitarist would get embarrassed. "Anyway, I'm keeping them, the sunglasses." he stated.

Shirosaki didn't say anything. In reality he was happier than he looked. That kid saw through him, through all his barriers. Hichigo had never imagined that a day like that would come.

It was getting dark outside. The sky looked like it was going to snow, yet none of them seemed to care about that. Both of them were thinking deeply about the other. Even though they didn't know each other too well they looked like old friends. Somehow, they were alike.

Ichigo's thoughts were interrupted by his phone. He sighed and looked at the phone's screen. It was Kon again. And just like the last time he hadn't responded, yet he stood up and looked at the guitarist.

"I have to go." he announced simply, a bit disappointed though.

"Why? Has yer girlfriend called ye?" the other said narrowing his eyes.

"Baka, I don't have a girlfriend!" Ichigo said closing his eyes in annoyance; there was no way he would ever have a girlfriend. Girls scared the crap out of him.

"Then…was it yer boyfriend?" the albino said and smirked devilishly.

"I-I don't like men!" the other almost shouted; he couldn't admit it…he just couldn't, after all.

"I see. I don' like men either." the albino said a bit too serious.

"I didn't ask you that…" the orangette whispered. "Anyway, I really have to go. Sorry." he said and turned his back to the pale male.

"Wait!" the guitarist said and grabbed his hand quickly. "I'll walk with ya." he said looking a bit desperate. "If…if ya don' mind." he added.

"Ok." Ichigo answered after a few minutes.

Shirosaki grabbed his guitar and left the café together with Ichigo. When they got outside, they realized that it started to rain. The albino started to curse all over while the orangette sighed heavily. None of them had an umbrella, of course! After all it was December. It should snow, not rain.

"Where do ya live?" the albino asked suddenly as they stood in front of the café.

"The Old District." the librarian said obviously pissed.

"That's far away." Shiro said. "I know! Come ta my house. It's only a few streets away 'rom 'ere." he said his eyes almost sparkling. He felt so smart.

"I…" Ichigo started but he was interrupted by the pale male.

"Ya are coming. No buts!" the other stated and grabbed Ichigo's hand.

They started running through the rain. The air was cold and the rain drops were soaking them; making them shiver a little at the cold touch.

"Um…I want to ask you something." Ichigo started a bit unsure, but too curious to hold back. "Did you take my sketchbook the other day?" he almost whispered.

Shirosaki stopped and turned to look at Ichigo. Gold and black eyes were fixing the young artist with a mysterious gaze and, for a second, Ichigo thought that the pale male's golden pools glowed. His pale lips curled in a real grin for the first time.

"Yes, I took it." the guitarist said grabbing Ichigo's chin bringing their faces closer. Now only five centimeters separated them. "What of it?" he whispered in Ichigo's ear.

It was for the first time he had spoken so complete. The albino was breathing hot air on Ichigo's neck making the carrot top shiver slightly. That watery voice wasn't helping him either; instead it made his legs go numb. The pale male's scent hit him. He smelled like cinnamon and vanilla if you got close to him. Mocha eyes became hazy. Shirosaki was way too close.

"Do you want it?" the albino whispered seductively in his ear, pale lips nearly touching the sun kissed ear.

Ichigo's face went red and he started to tremble, this time not because of the rain. His heart was racing in his chest threatening to break it every second. How could he be so sexy?

"I…" it was all the orangette managed to say before his throat became dry. That guy…was making him feel like that. He was illegally sexy!

"Mine." the other said softly, yet the orangette could feel his power. "They are all mine." he said and kissed Ichi's wet ear. "After all I am the one you drew." the albino said in a low voice.

Hot lips kissed the tanned neck while a pale hand held the other side of the neck. The orangette's body was burning despite the cold rain that soaked them. His eyes were clouded by lust; his heart was beating so fast he could hear it. His face was changing shades of red.

The guitarist released him after a minute that seemed to be a century. The librarian's face was a total mess and Shirosaki saw it. No matter how hard he tried, Ichigo was like an open book.

Without saying anything he grabbed the carrot top's hand and they continued their walk through the rain.

Name it destiny or accident, that café fulfilled its role.

 


	6. Loverman

Shirosaki unlocked the door of the apartment slowly while gazing at the orangette, his gold pools almost shining. Meantime, Ichigo was all soaked, water droplets dripping down his body, his spiky hair was now all wet, and a few shades darker. His cheeks were cherry pink and he looked at the skyscrapers of the city, not daring to face the guitarist.

The albino's flat was at the seventh floor and it had an amazing view of the city. The sun had almost set and it was getting dark. The rain didn't stop; the water droplets were hitting the metallic rooftop.

The door opened and Shirosaki entered the flat. Ichigo followed him quietly and shut the door after him. They both took off their shoes. After that, the pale male turned to face the orangette.

He stared at the young artist; his gaze was fixing him intensely. Ichigo, however, did not dare to look him in the eye. He was confused, embarrassed and, let's say, a little horny too.

White fingers grabbed the carrot top's chin, forcing mocha eyes to look at him. Ichigo's eyes widened and he tried to get away, but the albino was holding him firmly. Shirosaki bent his face forward, and only a few centimeters had their faces apart.

Again, the young artist found his face burning in embarrassment and lust; his heart beating madly in anticipation. His rationality was almost gone, the little voice in his head that was shouting at him to stop was almost too hard to be heard.

Pale lips widened in a seductive grin, sending shivers down Ichi's spine. That grin reminded him of his ex, only that Shirosaki was even more sexy. Not that Ichigo would ever admit it.

"Ya lil' liar." he said in a low voice, breathing hot air on Ichigo's cheek. "Ya said ya don't like men…" he continued in a calm voice, yet his eyes were piercing through the orangette. "Yet... ya act like ya do." he said and kissed lightly the pink cheek. "So? Which is it?" the pale male almost hissed near his ear. "Ya like or ya don't?" he purred, barely touching the sensitive skin of his ear.

"I…" Ichigo started, but his neck became dry.  _He found out. Shit! Now he's going to hate me!"_ his inner thoughts were. "…do." he said in the end looking closing his eyes, preparing for the worst.

Pale lips kissed his neck lightly. Mocha eyes opened. Why wasn't he mad at him? Why wasn't he throwing him out of the flat? Or, actually, why was he kissing him instead?

"If ya don't want meh ta be mad at ya…then ya'll have ta do as I say." Hichigo said simply as if he read the artist's mind. "'N' if yer not convinced by this, each time ya fulfill a task I'll give ya one of yer drawings. I guess ya want them back, don't ya?" he proposed grinning even more wildly than ever.

"I…agree." he said knowing that he will regret it…deeply.

Shirosaki grinned again, then kissed the orangette's pink lips a little forcefully. He walked away, letting the orangette young artist followed him. They entered a large room, probably the living room. From the way his flat was designed it seemed that Shirosaki was quite wealthy.

The living-room's walls were painted in black and had some golden flower elements on them. They were delicately drawn. The couch was dressed in black leather. The room had big windows, the city scenery was amazing.

The guitarist pointed his finger at the couch and Ichigo obediently sat down. Shiro picked a towel from the couch and went, most probably, to the bathroom.

Ichigo scanned the room curiously and found another towel on the black table,that was in the middle of the room. He picked it up, unsure if he was permitted to do so. He dug his face in it tiredly, mint and vanilla scent hitting him. It was, without a doubt, Shiro's scent. He took a deep breath, wanting to fill his entire being with that lovely scent.

A soft chuckle interrupted the orangette's little moment of sniffing. He raised his head from the towel and hid it behind his back. But the young artist was soon going to regret his action. In front of him stood an almost naked albino, with only a towel covering his…hmm…important parts.

Shirosaki was ruffling his wet white hair, while water droplets were running down his well-toned abs, arms and legs. Thick steam surrounded his oh-so-pale body. Ichigo couldn't help but stare at the gorgeous man in front of him.

He, then, looked at the albino's face. Big mistake! The guitarist was all smirking, showing his sharp and white teeth. Eerie pools stared at the helpless orangette. Through steam he seemed like a mythical creature.

"See somethin' ya like?" he said sitting near the hypnotized orangette.

"B-baka!" Ichigo managed to say in the end, adverting his gaze from the oh-so-perfect guy next to him. "Put something on or you are going to catch a cold." he said in a trembling voice, totally refusing to look at the forbidden fruit next to him.

"Yer worried about meh. How cute!" he purred in the orangette's ear, obviously not carrying that the carrot top was trying to stay calm.

Fresh mint and vanilla scent hit him, making him to lose almost all his sanity. How could that guy be so sexy?! Mocha eyes were filled with lust, but he still refused to look at the albino.

Shirosaki, however knew. He knew he drove him crazy and he loved it. He loved his red face, his brown eyes filled with lust and untold desires, his trembling voice.

"But do ya really want meh ta put somethin' on, Ichi?" he whispered lowly in his hear, barely touching the red ear.

Ichigo shivered. The way the albino said called him…made his head go numb.

"Yeah…" he barely whispered, his neck almost dry.

"Yer a bad liar, Ichi." he whispered and kissed lightly his ear, taunting him. "And bad boys need ta be punished, ya know?" he continued licking his ear.

"I-I am not a liar!" he said in a strangled voice.

"Wrong." Shiro said grabbing Ichigo's chin and forcing the carrot top to face him. "Yer first task is ta tell meh the truth when I ask ya." he said and kissed cherry lips. "So…do ya really want meh ta put some clothes on?" he taunted the little berry.

"N-not really." the other one said trying to look somewhere else.

"The whole truth, Ichi." he said. "If ye don't ya'll be punished. How….well, I choose how." the guitarist said and licked his lips. "So which is it?"

"Don't put anything on!" he said shutting his eyes, his face changing shades of red. He couldn't believe he said out loud something like that.

"So demanding." Shirosaki said smirking. God, he smirked a lot for some reason.

"S-Shut up!" the other one said, obviously embarrassed.

"Why so serious, Ichi?" Hichi purred.

"It's not like I can stay calm around a naked guy." the orangette confessed and sighed.

"Any naked guy…or is it just meh?" Shirosaki continued to taunt the poor man.

"Geez!" was all he said.

Tanned fingers grabbed firmly the guitarists face pulling it closer to his. Cherry lips pressed snow-white ones forcefully. Black and gold eyes widened in surprise. Mocha eyes starred lustfully at eerie ones.

The orangette brushed his fingers over the silky white hair, then grabbed it and deepened the kiss. Shirosaki gasped in surprise, letting Ichi's tongue explore the albino's cavern. Their tongues fought furiously for dominance, and when Ichigo almost won, the albino fought back and pinned the artist to the ground. He returned the kiss, ten times more roughly while pressing his wet body over the clothed carrot top. Then they parted to regain their breaths.

"Playtime's over, Ichi." he declared in a serious voice, placing his finger on Ichi's neck, then drawing circles on it. The orangette gulped loudly. "Ya've been a bad boy 'n' made meh horny. Ya hafta solve meh now. It's the second task." he continued in the same serious voice. "Now, take off your blouse." he demanded.

Ichigo blushed madly. There was no way he could do that. Grimmjow always stripped him…he had never been demanding, on top of it.

"Don't tell meh yer a virgin." the other one said curiously.

"I-it's none of your business!" he said stubbornly.

Shirosaki smirked. He definitely thought Ichi was a virgin. Oh, if he knew…

With his hands trembling a little, he grabbed his blouse and started to lift it slowly, revealing his also well-toned muscles. In the end, he tossed it on the ground and looked away shyly.

Shirosaki couldn't help but think that the orangette was cute, yet, somehow manly. His alabaster fingers touched lightly Ichi's chest.

"Kiss me." he demanded.

With his cheeks pink he bent forward and pressed his lips over his pale friend's ones. It wasn't a rough kiss like the previous one, but it was not a light one, either. He then, pressed harder and licked the snow-white lips, asking for an entrance. And their dance began. For the first seconds, Shiro let Ichi dominate him, but then, he fought back winning over. They kissed over and over again, loosing the count of them.

After they parted for breath, Ichigo found himself holding the pale in his arms and kissing his neck hungrily. He bit the white skin, licked it and kissed it. He regained a part of his powers and pinned Shiro down.

He moved on his well-toned chest, taunting one of his nipple with his right hand, and the other one his mouth. He bit it lightly, then sucked, then again bit it. Shiro moaned lowly under him, almost purred.

He went further, placing kisses on the well-toned abs and then he could feel something growing even more under him.

"Do it." the other one demanded, panting slightly. "Suck it until I tell ya to stop." He continued to talk dirty, making Ichigo blush.

He obeyed, bending down and taking off the towel that stood in his way. Ichigo tossed it on the ground. His eyes glowed in desire at the sight of Shiro's manhood. He took in his hand and licked its head. After that the orangette licked his all length for a few times and then he took in his mouth, making the albino shiver under him.

"Mmm…Y-yer good at it." he said pleased, while panting lightly.

Ichigo continued to bob his head faster and faster. Then he took it all in his mouth. He released it and licked its head and Shiro came before he could even warn him.

"Maybe too good." he stated while panting.

The orangette was staring at the albino curiously. Seeing the pale male so lusty was a very arousing sight, mind you. He stood up, but a pale hand stopped him firmly. He sat down near the albino who placed his fingers on his neck.

"It's my turn ta make ya feel  **good**." he purred, especially the last word.

"I-I don't need it." he managed to say.

"Don't be stupid. Yer hard." he said bluntly pressing his lips on his neck, then licking it.

"A-am n-not!" he whispered and bit his neck. "Aah!" he moaned loudly. His neck was one of his sensitive spots, dammit.

"See? Ya like it so much ya don't even dare ta admit it." he whispered on his burning neck. "Yer body aches fer my touch so badly, that ya can't even release 'rom my arms. In fact, ya don't like it…ya love it, don't ya?" he said then licked his hot skin. "Ya desire ta be devoured hungrily by **my**  lips. Ya want to be swallowed all, right, I-chi-go?" he said slowly in a low voice, as if he tried to hypnotize the artist. And he succeed. The orangette lost all his doubts and all he could think was how wonderful could that guitarist be. "I got no choice, Ichi, no choice at all. I'm going to be your loverman." he said and kissed the orangette's back.

"Mmm…" the young artist moaned.

Shiro stood up and picked the other on from the couch. Ichigo didn't even have the power to ask what he was doing. They headed to his bedroom. He opened the door while kissing hungrily Ichigo. Then he threw him in his big bed, pinned him down.

Surrounded by mint scent, devoured by the white devil on top of him, Ichigo almost lost his senses.

Shirosaki bit neck again, harder, that time.

"Aaah, goddamit!" the other one moaned while he was bitten.

He bit it again and again, obtaining the same reactions almost each time. He taunted his nipples cruelly, he licked and kissed his abs and all the artist could do was to moan louder and louder, to grab his white hair tenderly.

Shiro played with his manhood, licking it, sucking it lightly sometimes, other times hard, until he came shouting the guitarist's name, asking for more.

Pale fingers massaged cherry lips. Ichigo took them in his mouth and licked them.

"I guess it's enough." he said and took back his finger.

He liftet Ichi's legs, putting them on his shoulders. He played with his index at his entrance, earning desperate moans from Ichi. He stretched it, searching for his sweet spot, and when he found it, Ichigo jolted, screaming his name.

"If ya want somethin' then say it." he said taunting him.

"P-please!" he managed to say.

"Yes?" he said licking his lips. "What do ya want? Say it out loud."

"Y-you know w-what!" Ichigo said desperate.

"Tell me ya want me to fuck you, Ichi." he almost hissed.

"Oh, God! Fuck me already!" he snapped and the pale male didn't wait to be told twice and entered him.

He pushed harshly inside him, making the young artist scream his name.

"Shi-shiro! Ahh…mmmmhh…" he moaned, without being able to restrain himself anymore. Ichigo dug his nail on his back, he scratched it and he screamed until his throat became sore.

His vision got white every time the pale male hit his spot, and for a second he thought he would go blind if that continued.

They both came in the same, Ichigo screaming for the last time his name.

"Fuck, Ichi. Yer tasty." he said and threw himself near the exhausted orangette.

"You…are a devil." The orangette whispered and hugged the albino.

"I'm your loverman." he whispered tenderly and kissed him.

Outside it got dark, the rain turned in snow and now big snowflakes were floating in the dark. At the seventh floor, in a certain flat, there were sleeping two mans, holding each other tightly as if they would vanish any second. The devil and his bride.


End file.
